


He's the Air I Would Kill to Breathe

by WhoGeek



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Future Fic, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-13 01:02:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1207027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoGeek/pseuds/WhoGeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When your life is something out of a horror movie there are bound to be some nightmares. Having someone to take care of you and bring you back to reality can make all the difference.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He's the Air I Would Kill to Breathe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shanachie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shanachie/gifts).



> Title comes from [Breathe Again](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lOwvpRZKR4I) by Sara Bareilles.
> 
> This came about after talking with Shanachie about how with all the awful things that Derek goes through there's no way he doesn't come away from all of it without some really awful nightmares.

Derek is still half-asleep as he launches himself off the bed, already half-shifted and roaring, dropping into a defensive crouch in the corner.

Stiles goes flailing off the other side of the bed with a yelp and crawls quickly back up, worming his way across the bed towards Derek. He's making soft, soothing sounds, reaching one hand out towards Derek, palm up and fingers barely curled in a non-threatening manner. Part of Derek always thinks he should be offended that he's being treated like a wild animal but most of his attention is divided between scanning the room for a non-existent threat and letting Stiles's quiet words wash over him.

Eventually Derek calms enough to crawl back to the bed, sliding his fingers between Stiles's, being careful of the claws that he can't quite convince himself to pull back. Stiles uses that point of contact to reel Derek in, letting him press his face against the curve of Stiles's neck and breathe in the scent of the other man. The phantom scents from the dream are easily overwhelmed by the spicy-sweetness of Stiles that means _home-mine-safe-pack_ with the faint sour of _worry-concern_ that is rapidly being overtaken by the almost hot-metal scent of _protect-mine_. Stiles threads the fingers of his free hand through Derek's hair and rubs against his scalp with just the right pressure.

Derek isn't sure how long they stay there, Stiles half-off the bed and Derek crouched against the side, when Stiles carefully moves them to standing. The hand in Derek's hair slides down to rest over the triskele. Derek lets himself be pushed out into the hall. They make a silent circuit of the house, Derek sniffing at every window and door, Stiles's hand drops from his back and Derek mourns the loss of that contact as long fingers stroke extra magic into the sigils and glyphs and runes that are carved into the windows and doors.

It isn't until they finish their loop that Derek relaxes enough to shift back to human. Stiles smiles, small and understanding, before turning and leading Derek back to their bed. Stiles lets go of Derek's hand to pull the sheets and blankets back onto the bed before climbing in himself. Derek waits, feeling vaguely bereft until Stiles is comfortable and lifts the covers with one hand as he reaches the other out for Derek. Derek folds himself in against Stiles, wrapping one arm across Stiles's torso and pressing one ear against where his heart is beating a steady rhythm as Stiles curls his own arms around Derek's shoulders.

"Which one?" The question is quiet, undemanding, but Derek knows he'll feel better if he tells Stiles.

"Deucalion. Made you his."

Stiles squeezes, hard enough to hurt for a moment, then reaches down to slide Derek's hand up to the bite on his shoulder. "I'm yours, Derek." Derek squeezes the mark and Stiles lets out a small noise, scent spiking just faintly with arousal. "Only yours, yeah?"

Derek sighs, relaxing and smoothing his hand back down to Stiles's hip, pulling him closer. "Yeah."

"Gonna sleep again?"

"Yeah."

Stiles huffs out a laugh and relaxes. "Good."


End file.
